


Programmed to Recieve

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- School, Field Trip, Hotels, How Do I Tag, M/M, Shit gets gay That's all you need to know, the founding fathers sure were gay guys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-03 11:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8711041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Five days. In a hotel room. With Thomas. Fucking. Jefferson.Oh, what could possibly go wrong?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from The Eagles' "Hotel California", which I only just found out is "not actually about getting stuck in a hotel, Emma, what the fuck?". Anyway, chapter one is pretty short, but I'm super writers'-blocked. So, if you're awesome enough to leave a comment, I'd also flip if you left me a promp and pairing to work with, too! Thanks a ton!

"And if you look to the back of your packet, you'll see who you'll be rooming with during the NYC trip." Professor Washington's statement was accompanied by the rustling of flipping pages. Within seconds, the class morphed into a convoluted mass of shrieking teenagers, tripping over each other to see who had who. Amid the frenzy, however, Alexander Hamilton simply sat at his desk, glaring down at the paper with a fiery vengeance. Finally, he swept the up the packet and strode up to Washington's desk, standing stiff as he waited for the older man to take his head out of his hands.  
"Sir, there's been a mistake," he said, and stuck out his paper as proof. There, neatly listed under _Room 223_ were four names.  
**Hercules Mulligan**  
**Alexander Hamilton**  
**Gilbert Du Motier, Marquis De Lafayette**  
**Thomas Jefferson**

 _Thomas Jefferson._ Even the thought of him made Alex's head ache. That's all Jefferson was, really. A headache. A headache who reeked of old money and fancy french perfume. Who wore blindingly frivolous, undoubtedly expensive clothing. Who somehow managed to find enough time between lacrosse, riding, and being popular, to make Alexander's life a living hell. He was an insufferable, intolerable, unbearable, hot asshole. No, Fuck; he wasn't hot, he was just...visually stimulating. _As if that sounded any better._ Whatever he was, Alexander was not willing to put up with it for the majority of a week. And so he told Washington. 

The professor in question looked up at him through tired eyes and simply shook his head. "Son," he began, and Alex scowled. "We didn't make a mistake. Both Gilbert and Thomas asked to be roomed together," Alex whipped his head around to stare at Lafayette, who was sitting comfortably in Hercules's lap and seemed to be comforting a dejected-looking John. Washington continued, "And, at any rate, I figured it would do the two of you a whole lot of good to actually spend some time together without arguing."

Alex scoffed. "Yeah, fat chance. Look, Jefferson and I don't get along, and we don't _want_ to get along! Can't you put him in another room or something?" He was leaning over the desk now, his hands were uncomfortably digging into the wood, but he'd be damned if he let anyone force him to spend five whole days with Jefferson.

Washington raised a hand. "Look, son- Alexander." The professor pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not asking you to marry him. Just put up with him for a few days, is all. The trip is on Monday; it's too late to shift anything around. I'm sorry, Alexander, but that's that. Okay?" Washington's eyes were pleading with him, to just drop it. Breathing out a heavy huff, Alex resigned. With a dramatic flourish, he spun on his heels and stalked away, heading straight for Lafayette's desk.

"Why the fuck would you ask for us to room with _Thomas fucking Jefferson_?" Alex demanded, slamming his hands down on the desk. Startled, Lafayette jumped and unceremoniously flew off of his perch on Hercules's thigh. The exchange student simply shrugged, pouting at Alex as he rose from the floor and righted himself.

"Now, Alexander, _cher_ ," he began gently, fully ignoring the smaller man's death stare. "You know very well that me and Thomas-"

"Thomas and _I_ ," Aaron interjected, paging through his information packet disinterestedly. Lafayette turned to deadpan at him, before facing Alex and continuing.

"You know that Thomas and I are very good friends. But so are we, Alexander!" That, at least, was true. Thomas, with his borderline-obsession for anything and everything French, had been quick to befriend the flamboyant exchange student. Alexander himself hadn't gone out of the way to do the same; to tell the truth, he'd barely noticed Lafayette before the kid approached him to ask for help in their A.P.U.S.H. class. After that, though, they'd grown comfortably close, bonding over their shared interests and introducing each other to new ones. Of course, being friends with both Thomas and Alexander made scheduling get-togethers almost impossible for poor Lafayette- he'd learned that after the infamous _Garden Party Fisticuff of 2015_. A small flicker of fear graced Lafayette's eyes even as he remembered the incident. He sighed dramatically and grimaced at Alex. "Though, perhaps I should not have requested we all be in the same room."

"Damn right, Gil!" Alex was still scowling, although his friend's confession of guilt lightened up his mood a little. The young man sighed. "Listen, I have to go... mentally prepare myself for this." Lafayette scoffed. "I'm serious, man. I gotta figure out how to survive this!" He gathered up his books and left the classroom, his frown still set firmly on his face. 

This was shaping up to be the longest week of his life.

\-------

In retrospect, Monday morning wasn't exactly the best time to start packing. His suitcase lay open and mostly empty on his bed, mocking him. A reminder that he was about to spend the next five days in the company of one of the rudest, most pretentious, overall shittiest people in the grade. Placing a pair of well-scuffed boots into the case next to his laptop, Alexander spared a thought to what the actual arrangements would be like. Jefferson would probably take hour-long showers and leave the window open and wear silk pajamas. Alexander snickered. He'd probably bring his own blankets and make everyone watch Downton Abbey or whatever the fuck it was that rich people enjoyed. Alex whipped out his phone (70 percent, he observed; he'd have to charge before he left) and texted his friends.

_**To: Favorite_Fighting_Frenchman, Four_Sets_of_Corsets, & 16_Screaming_Gay_Turtles** I'm kind of angry but also really ready to make fun of Jefferson. This is gonna be a scream._

_**From: Favorite_Fighting_Frenchman:** Wait no _

_**From: Favorite_Fighting_Frenchman** Who's going to be screaming_

_**From: Favorite_Fighting_Frenchman** Listen, I know Thomas is not your ideal bunkmate but please don't kill him_

_**From: 16_Screaming_Gay_Turtles** Skin that bitch alive and let me take his bed _

_**From: Four_Sets_of_Corsets** Please, just ignore each other for the week, along with absolutely everything that John says._

_**From: 16_Screaming_Gay_Turtles:** Wtf this is bullying_

_**To: Favorite_Fighting_Frenchman, Four_Sets_of_Corsets, & 16_Screaming_Gay_Turtles** Listen; I'm not going to accept any of y'all's advice, but I'm not going to turn it down, either._

_**From: Favorite_Fighting_Frenchman:** *Screaming, Things breaking, bombs dropping*_

_**To: Favorite_Fighting_Frenchman, Four_Sets_of_Corsets, & 16_Screaming_Gay_Turtles:** K, well, thanks for your faith. I still have to pack. See you at 8._

Oh, but surely he wouldn't have to spend time with Jefferson outside of their room. The professors _knew_ that he and Jefferson couldn't be trusted alone with each other. There was no way they'd group them together all day, unless they were willing to deal with it when one of them, inevitably, pushed the other into an elevator shaft. And it wasn't like they even had to interact in the hotel, anyways. Whatever happened, he was resolved that he wouldn't let this asshole ruin his week. _Maybe, just maybe,_ Alexander thought as he piled sweaters and tees into his bag, _this trip would be okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering, The Infamous Garden Party Fisticuff of 2015, as it's come to be known, was a tea party/croquet match that spiraled out of control after Jefferson aimed his ball straight at Hamilton's shin, at which point Hamilton proceeded to punch Jefferson in the nose. Two black eyes, three bruised cheekbones, and one bloody nose later, it was decided that neither young man should ever be allowed in the presence of the other until they worked out their issues. It still hasn't happened.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, this is a really short chapter, but I just had to get one out tonight! If you'd be great enough to leave a comment, I'd also kill for a few prompts/pairings. Show some love!  
> <3

Huddled shoulder-to-shoulder at the front of the school, the large mass of teenagers was practically vibrating with excitement by the time the buses pulled up, shrouded in a thick cloud of exhaust. Above them, rolling grey clouds enshrouded the morning sky, adding a layer of darkness to the scene. Despite his three heavy layers and the crowd of eighty-odd students encircling him, Alexander could still feel the cold air biting at the tip of his nose. He shoved his hands into his jean pockets and gave a stiff smile to the chaperone currently carrying his bag to the luggage bus. John stood to his right, tapping away at his phone and pointedly ignoring the rowdy crowd surging around him. After about five minutes of this chaos, Professor Franklin rose to stand on the edge of the bus door.

"Okay, everyone know which bus they're on?" he asked loudly, adjusting his hat against the heavy wind beginning to grow him. The crowd murmured their assent. The professor smiled heartily and continued. "Good, then. It's a three-and-a-half-hour drive, so we're not turning around for anything, or anyone. If one of you manages to cause trouble before we get to New York-" Here, he lifted his eyes away from the crowd to avoid making eye contact with the students. "One of us chaperones will take you back, and believe me, it will be the longest three and a half hours of your life. Got it?" The students nodded attentively, and the professor flashed them one last gleeful grin before he stepped down.

"I bet he's _so_ happy to be retiring this year," said a voice behind Alex. The young man jumped and twisted to see Hercules, looking quite comfortable in a woolen grey beanie and matching scarf. Alex guessed that he must have knitted them himself; the store-bought ones were never quite as soft. He then realized with a start how odd he must look, staring contemplatively at Herc's knitwear. He turned back towards the bus as the students began to file in one-by-one, not quite walking, but rather shuffling awkwardly along the sidewalk.

"Honestly, dude?" Alex replied, rubbing his hands together as he stepped past the doors, "If I were him, I'd be upset that I didn't do it _last_ year." Hercules chuckled and stepped up beside them. It wasn't much warmer inside the bus, and Alex found himself still wringing his hands for warmth. The two slid down into one of the slim leather booths, wrestling with the tangled seat belts as they chatted. "I mean, especially after all the drama with Charles Lee last week. He says it's the stupidest thing he's seen since those eighth graders burned down the Panera Bread back in '98."

"Yeah, he's probably right about that. Do you have the buckle for the blue belt?"

"I already tried it, they're not clicking."

"I swear sometimes this school is trying to-"

Herc's words were interrupted by a loud, sugar-sweet hum. Both boys whipped their heads around to stare at Thomas, who was taking great pains to drape himself over the back of their seat, the black silk of his coat pooling over the cheap brown pleather. "Hello, boys! You excited for our week together?" he drawled, shooting Alex a model-worthy pout and trailing a finger over a hole in the seat where the stringy, off-white stuffing was poking out. James Madison was still standing in the aisle, surveying the other boys with boredom and tapping his cane against the floor absent-mindedly. 

Alexander spoke up, the sneer in his voice matching the scowl on his face. "Actually, _Jefferson,_ I'm beyond thrilled to be going on this trip." He turned back to face the front, adding as he went, "I don''t plan to involve you in it any more than I need to." Jefferson let out a loud gasp, dripping with fake hurt, holding a hand to his heart as he sat down behind Alexander, and gestured at Madison to do join him.

"Hamilton, I'm hurt! I'm wounded! Ruined!" His voice rose in pitch with each syllable, each statement more dramatic than the last. "I don't know how I'll survive without your constant, undivided attention!" Thomas faked a swoon, leaning on an increasingly annoyed and uncomfortable Madison. He drew himself back up, running a hand through his chaotic curls. "I'll find a way, I suppose." He set his bag down on the floor, and pressed himself against the window as he took out his phone. Sensing the confrontation was over, Alexander shook his head at Herc in exasperation, and unlocked his own phone. The bus's engine roared to life beneath him, and the vehicle began to rattle a little bit. They had barely driven five yards when Alex's phone lit up with a text notification. 

_**From: Dickhead Numero Uno** This is so exciting! It's been too long since I went to the city!_

_**To: Dickhead Numero Uno** Honestly? If you're going to annoy me, just do it directly. It's bad when you text me, but it's 1000x worse when you text me WHILE YOU'RE RIGHT BEHIND ME_

_**From: Dickhead Numero Uno** Aww, you're so cute when you get all worked up. Texting it is. _

Scowling despite the involuntary blush that now dusted his cheeks, Alex let out a frustrated groan. An all-telling puff of breathy laughter behind him made him want to either sink into his seat and disappear, or to leap over it and punch Jefferson in the face. For the moment, he did neither. Instead, he squared his shoulders, pulled out his laptop, and directed all of his attention to it, ignoring the constant barrage of notifications on his phone. This was going to be one hell of a long drive. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for more, hopefully in the next century or so. I'd be stoked if you left a comment. Thanks for reading! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So, yeah, this is yet another bus chapter. It's more filler than anything, but I figured I ought to put something up this morning. Enjoy, and be sure to leave a comment if you feel like it.

It had started hailing somewhere between Milford and The Meadowlands, it had started to hail. Honest-to-god hail. The pellets drummed relentlessly on the roof, some hitting the windows with enough force to shake them. The usually rowdy teens had all settled down after a while, and a rare silence had fallen over the group. With his phone on only 5% and Hercules fast asleep beside him, Alexander had no choice but to stare out the window at the wet marshlands as the bus crept past what had to be the ugliest skeleton of a building he'd ever seen. It was a brightly colored eyesore, with it's aluminum siding composed in bright blue checkerboards and orange and yellow stripes. Slopes and curves shot out of the building at odd angles, ended off with bright red and yellow walls. If he hadn't known better, Alex would've thought it was designed by a five-year-old. He was so absorbed in staring at the hideous building that he didn't notice Thomas leaning up behind him until the other student spoke.

"It's an eyesore, ain't it?" Thomas noted, with a nod at the structure. Alex raised an eyebrow, but gave a small smile in response. The other boy continued, crossing his arms, "They say it's the ugliest building in New Jersey." 

"I believe it," Alex replied, leaning back against the chair and crossing his arms as he turned to look at Thomas. It was hard to believe that he was agreeing with Jefferson on anything style-related, but it was hard to imagine anyone holding a different opinion on it. Alex huffed. Was he reading too much into it? Probably. It was just a really ugly piece of architecture. Still, he didn't like to have to admit that Thomas was right. 

_Okay, he was definitely reading too much into this conversation._

Before Thomas could open his mouth to say anything more, Peggy launched herself from her seat and cried out, "Hey, check it out!" Every head on the bis turned to look out the windows, students left and right rubbernecking over each others' shoulders for a look. Set in an almost cinematically perfect break in the gloomy, overcast sky, the city of New York rose from the horizon in full view, framed by streaks of sunlight that broke through the thick grey clouds. Alex wasn't a particularly syrupy person, but he couldn't help but relax as he admired the gorgeous scene. Despite the fact that they were sixteen and seventeen year-olds, the whole class found themselves letting out little _ooh's_ and _aah's_ as they passed. Up at the front of the bus, John Jay was struggling to help Professor Franklin operate his phone camera.

Alex jolted a little bit at the feeling of something brushing his cheek. Surprised, he whipped his head around and made contact with the side of Thomas's head. Thomas jerked back into his seat, grimacing and pressing a hand tightly to the skin under his curls. Alex's eyes widened as he turned from the window. He reached a hand out towards Thomas, but jerked it back, not quite sure what do do. 

"Shit, I'm sorry, Jefferson- you okay?" he asked, his hand still hanging uselessly in the air. Jefferson nodded slowly, opening his eyes. Alex was ready for the other student to start bitching and glaring at him. Instead, he flashed Hamilton that stupid, life-ruining smirk, leaning back up until he was, once again, uncomfortably close to him.

"Now, Hamilton, I've always said that you had a thick skull. I didn't need you to prove it!" Thomas patted Alex's cheek and leaned back. Alex rolled his eyes and gave the other a dirty look. 

"I'd like to prove it again, dickhead." Alex muttered under his breath, scowling and sinking down into his seat, arms crossed over his chest. He made sure to ignore Thomas's huff of disappointment when he said nothing more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering, the building I wrote about in the beginning is called "American Dream Meadowlands" and it's even than it sounds. It was originally supposed to be a sports complex, hence the enormous indoor ski slope, but was converted into a mall when the project when bankrupt. Well, the mall project went bankrupt, and was picked up by another company. It's probably one of the ugliest buildings in America.  
> In other news, I'm hard at work on the next chapter, and I'm hoping it'll have more plot. I hope you've enjoyed, and be sure to leave a comment!


End file.
